


La Vie Bohème

by nothingeverlost



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rent References, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: He would have loved his name being used almost like a swear, shouted against the system that he’d spent his life fighting.
Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	La Vie Bohème

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short fic, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone until I'd written it.

It was easy enough to get into the theatre, thanks to two dozen cookies and an usher named Michael that had worked a few of her shows. She could have waited a week and bought a ticket to see the premiere, but that would have meant crowds of people. It wasn’t bad, but it was a different energy. Over the years she’d come to appreciate the feel of an almost empty theatre, the comforting company of ghosts and crowds yet to be.

Kitty had been the one to tell her about the show. She was a fierce protector of her father’s legacy, so Midge knew that the cast on stage must be doing something right if Kitty had approved. She settled into a chair almost in the back, just to the left of center, and allowed herself to get lost in the story. She didn’t expect it to hit her so hard, but Angel reminded her a little of Shy, who was thankfully still healthy and not showing any symptoms. She’d seen him just a week ago when he’d been in the City for meetings. He spent most of his time in Vegas these days.

Caught up in the story and the characters unfolding before her she almost forgot why she was there. She lost the ability to breathe when the line ‘Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage,’ was followed by ‘Lenny Bruce.’ Not even a sentence, just his name, but everything went silent. And then it was loud and forceful and just a little angry, and she couldn’t help thinking that Lenny would have loved it. He would have loved his name being used almost like a swear, shouted against the system that he’d spent his life fighting.

“Excuse me? I’m sorry but this is a closed rehearsal. You’ll have to leave, ma’am.” It had taken more than an hour but someone had finally noticed that she didn’t belong.

“You’re interrupting the song. And don’t call me ma’am.” Midge waved her hand, turning back to the stage after a quick look at the man carrying a clipboard and wearing headphones around his neck. Mimi and Roger were singing now, everyone else silent in the background. They were fighting so hard to ignore what was between them; Midge would always be grateful she and Lenny had stopped fighting and admitted how they felt. Thirteen years wasn’t enough, but it hurt less than it would have if she hadn’t had him at all. After sixteen years the pain of missing him was sharp some days, and dull on others, but never gone.

“It’s a good song, isn’t it? People are going to be singing this song.” She looked over at the young man who clearly didn’t know what to do with the fact he was being ignored. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do. I like the whole thing.”

“You’ve heard it a lot”

“There have been some changes as it’s progressed but yeah, I’ve heard it a lot.”

“This last one, in the cafe. There’s a lot to unpack there but what does it mean to you? All those things they talk about, the people, the language they use. What does it say to you?”

“Critics are invited for a show in a few days. If you’re trying to get an early review in…”

“Oh honey, I’m not a critic. I’m as far from a critic as you can get. Do you know how they can eviscerate you? I’d much rather get arrested than get a bad review from a critic, though it’s been a while since I’ve been arrested.”

“Trespassing?” he asked wryly.

“Profanity, years ago when that was still something that happened. Public indecency but that was just once. Protesting, more than a few times. I carry my own handcuffs now so I can chain myself to a fence when needed.” She smiled up at him, letting him guess if she was telling the truth or not. 

“So why are you here?”

“The man who wrote it, his name is Jonathan, isn’t it?” A young man, barely begun, but he knew that words had so much power, clearly. He knew how to use that power to touch people with his words.

“It is.”

“When you see him next tell him Lenny Bruce would approve.” She would come back later, to see the rest of the play. To learn how it turned out for these friends. To see how the energy of an audience fed the songs and how the songs fed the audience. For now, though, she needed some time alone to remember.


End file.
